Page 68 of Desert Rain

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That shut her up for one second.

Only one.

Then her chin lifted. “Fine.”

Regan clapped once. “Good.”

Sienna stabbed a finger toward me. “But there are rules.”

“Of course there are.”

“I am not cuddling you.”

“It’s a motorcycle, not a loveseat.”

“I’m not clinging.”

“You’ll hold on.”

“I’ll maintain necessary contact for balance.”

“You’ll hold on,” I repeated.

Her eyes narrowed. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m getting there.”

I stepped closer, close enough to drop my voice so only she heard. “Good. Hold onto that. Might keep you from overthinking where your hands go.”

Color touched her cheeks again.

Not much.

Enough.

She looked furious about it.

I turned away before I did something stupid like enjoy that too much. “Finish your coffee, scientist. We leave in twenty.”

“Don’t call me scientist like it’s an insult.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why does it sound like one?”

I looked back at her over my shoulder.

Because if I said it soft, we’d both be in trouble.

I didn’t say that.

Instead, I said, “Because you annoy me.”

Her smile came quick, sharp, unwilling.

“Good,” she said. “Mutual.”

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